[h3][color=#6F5689]Viik[/color][/h3]
[hr]
“This man, this blithering dumbass of man, he say, ‘I paid for a golem with a turret on its back, and you tell me I have to load it with my own bullets?’ I thought that would be taken care of’.”

Viik was lugging around two suitcases full of a myriad of different arcane materials. Behind him was a golem of his own creation, standing a whole head and shoulders taller than him, pulling a luggage trolley stacked to the brim with various slabs of gray rock.

“And Viik says, ‘Okay, sit down, Viik is going to learn you a thing. Viik is not ‘ammomancer’, he does not know how to make magical bullets that self-replicate. He is very certain that is impossible. What Viik DOES know, however, is that .50 caliber bullet is motherfucker, and very useful even against many creatures. And they’re not impossible to get, if you believe in yourself hard enough.’ And the man, he says- are you listening?”

Viik stopped and looked at the white cobra wrapped around his arm, Siraan. She met his blank stare with her own, giving no verbal response. As usual.

“You continue to say nothing to Viik.” He said in turn, “He is starting to believe you are not Familiar. Just some random snake that managed to find her way into Viik’s home, and inadvertently lead him on magical journey to arcane educational institution.”

Again, no response from the cobra.

“You make Viik uncomfortable.” He began scanning the immediate hallway around him. “Now… desk-clerk say Viik’s room is where?” He eyed several doors, but none of them matched the information on his slip of paper.

“Oh well. Viik will just have to keep looking. Onward, Pesco!”

And so Viik and his golem henchman continued their search for an abode.